“No way in hell,” I repeat, and he grins, looking around the room.
“Ah, the planetarium.”
“The what?”
He takes my hand and leads me to a little alcove in the far corner of the room. It’s about the size of my bedroom, glowing beanbag chairs spread across the floor. He settles into a fluorescent orange one, pulling me into a green one.
Above us a neon night sky swirls.
“Isn’t this cool?” he says, snuggling deeper into his beanbag.
“Yeah,” I say vaguely, my eyes on the sky. I find it right away, connect the lines in my mind to form that upside-down U shape. The brightest star in the constellation, Pollux, blinks at me with a soft orange hue. I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen Gemini without Owen next to me. Anytime I’m outside with someone else, I never even look. Plus, this time of year, the twins hide in the west, waiting for winter and spring.
My head feels light and floaty, so I look down for a few seconds, blinking at the glowing fabric of my beanbag. It’s silly—?I know these stars aren’t real, but they look real. They look alive.
“You okay?” Alex asks, nudging my bag with his foot.
I nod. Alex doesn’t know about Owen and me and Gemini. Neither does Charlie or Hannah. The constellation is ours, Owen’s and mine. It’s always been only ours, our retreat from the world, our respite from annoying parents or a bad grade or a bunked audition or a breakup.
Glancing back up at the sky, I try to see Gemini as Alex would—?a constellation that’s sort of hard to pick out, a row of stars connected by others. A pattern in the sky, no more, no less. But I can’t do it. Those stars, they’re Owen and me. They always will be.
“Hey,” I say to Alex, and he leans toward me. “Can we go?”
“Yeah, sure.”
We dig ourselves out of the beanbag chairs and collect our shoes. The lady at the front counter has been replaced by a very chipper dude with a handlebar mustache, who tells us to have a glowing day as we leave.
Outside, the sun is absurdly bright after spending an hour in the dark. We blink against the light as we walk to the car. Once on the road, Alex turns down the music. “So . . . what happened in there? You okay?”
“Yeah. I just . . .” I turn to look at him. His long fingers move over the wheel as he makes the turn onto Orange Street. “Thanks for this. It was exactly what I needed.”
“Me too.”
“I just need to go home, you know?”
He glances at me and nods, his mouth pressed into a line. He pulls into the cemetery and throws the car into park next to my Civic. The sun is just starting to touch the tops of the trees, the late afternoon light thick and lazy.
“You want me to come with you?” he asks as I unbuckle my seat belt.
I shake my head. “Mom wants a family meeting.”
“God.”
“I know.” My stomach flutters with nerves. I haven’t really talked to Owen since Friday night, since I saw him saunter off happily, his arm around Hannah’s waist. I know it’s time, but that doesn’t make facing him any easier.
“Thank you,” I say again. Then, before I know what I’m doing, I lean forward and kiss Alex on the cheek. His hand comes up and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear, his touch there and then gone.
“You’re welcome,” he whispers as I pull away. He closes his hands around the steering wheel, a blush spilling into his cheeks.
“See you tomorrow?” I ask, and he nods.
We go our separate ways as we turn out of the cemetery, leaving all the brave girls behind us.
Chapter Nine
AFTER A DAY OF TRYING not to look at my brother, I can’t stop staring at him now. His wavy mop of golden-brown hair, the way he’s spread himself over the couch, legs splayed and one arm thrown over the back cushions. That scared little boy curling into his mother from yesterday afternoon is gone, replaced with all of his usual confidence and ease. This is the boy I know. The boy I love, the boy I believe. The boy I have to believe.
“Why’d you leave school today?” he asks. I’m tucked into the armchair across from him while we wait for our parents, who are whispering in the kitchen but pretending that all they’re really doing is making tea. They both love hot tea. Dad thinks it solves just about anything.
